


Brick

by Qpenguin98



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sadstuck, back to your regularly scheduled sadstuck fluff, hahahaha, oh look it ends in sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qpenguin98/pseuds/Qpenguin98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-And oh god this truck is small. So small. The walls are so close to you. Breathing gets harder as you panic, curling down on yourself.-</p>
<p>in which john has panic attacks and dave is the literal best</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brick

You're sitting at your computer, scrolling mindlessly through the internet when you feel a nagging at the back of your brain. You know what comes after, but you try to ignore it and focus on the screen. It doesn't work. Your breaths get short and choppy as you try to stop the flow of insults in your head. This, again, doesn't work. All the walls of your room suddenly feel closer and you can't breathe right. You need out, but no license and no car makes that hard. There's only one other option, but you don't even know if Dave's awake right now. Let alone if he'd want to come pick you up. 

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 1:59 am

EB: dave, are you awake?

EB: please be awake.

EB: wake up, please dave i'm serious.

EB: wake up you jerk.

EB: WAKE UP!!!

TG: woah egbert calm your tits

TG: just making some hot pockets

TG: the unholy trophy of every freezer

TG: you gotta go and scare the delicious snack with your screaming

EB: i don't care right now. just shut up about your hot pockets.

TG: you okay man

TG: you sound not okay

EB: i need you to get me out of this house.

TG: now

TG: i literally just cooked them

EB: dave please just come get me i can't breathe.

TG: wait are you actually not okay

TG: because yeah ill come get you

TG: whats wrong john

EB: i don't know just come pick me up.

TG: be right there

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 2:13 am

Now you're waiting. Staring at the screen, trying to suck in breath. It feels like the walls are closing around you, cutting off your oxygen, squeezing your head until it hurts. He needs to hurry or you're going to be sick. You curl your knees up on the seat and wrap your arms around them, humming a song to clear your mind. It doesn't work. 

Ten minutes later you hear the engine and practically sprint down the stairs, almost tripping at least twice. The door bangs behind you as you slam into his truck. Dave gives you a look before unlocking the door. When you climb in, he hands you a plate.

"They're still hot." You stare at the hot pockets and eat one of them. He's right. They are the unholy trophy. 

Everything feels a little clearer as he drives, air coming in normal again. Eyes close as you munch on the pockets, untensing your shoulders.

"Anywhere specific you wanted to go, man? Because I mean, I've got some ideas. But you looked pretty freaked, so I don't know if you wanted to pick."

You shake your head no. "Pick. Please. I'm still not... thinking right. Anywhere, just drive anywhere."

Dave nods, clicking on the blinker. The street lights make the road glow, concrete still wet from the rain earlier. A hand slides into yours, warm familiar. You squeeze hard, grounding your thoughts to the car. He looks like he wants to ask but doesn't know how. You put a hot pocket in front of his mouth and he eats it. A laugh bubbles up from your chest and ends up a chokes noise that sounds like crying. You wipe at your face and sure enough, it's wet. He noticed, driving a little bit faster. You squeeze his hand tightly and he rubs circles with his thumb onto your skin. It's placating, comfortable, and makes you cry worse.

"Shit. John, we're almost there man. It's gonna be okay. Fuck I'm not good at this I'm so sorry." You shake your head. He's doing fine. It's you. Always is. And oh god this truck is small. So small. The walls are so close to you. Breathing gets harder as you panic, curling down on yourself. Dave's worried, he squeezes your hand so tight it hurts. You've made him worried you dumbass. He'll hate you for this. You know it. Everything feels so small and tight. Your brain is foggy and funny feeling. Everything's off. 

You don't notice you've stopped until Dave is pulling you out of truck. Air. You can breathe again. He holds you tightly, rubbing circles down your spine. It's relaxing. He's whispering things you can't make out, and that's relaxing too. Dave pulls away and leads you to a bench. You haven't even looked at where he's taken you. It looks like a campground, abandoned now that the season's over. Trees are everywhere. He sits down and holds you next to him, petting his fingers through your hair. 

"John, what's wrong?"

"Mmmnnn." You don't want to answer. He'll shove it out though. Jerk. "Just stuff."

"Yeah, what kinda stuff?"

"I just panicked, it's normal." His grip around you tightens. "Dave it's fine. I just needed out of the house."

"It's not fine. Because that's obviously what happened in the truck. Shit was freaky, John. I didn't know what was up. And panicking isn't good. At all."

"Dave please-"

"Please nothing. Why are you panicking, John?"

He sounds so angry. Hurt. "I... I don't know. Everything just hurts. There's all this stress from school work. Dad always posts those notes everywhere and I feel like I'm just gonna let him down. And it feels like all of you hate me." You stop him before he can interrupt. "Yes I know that's stupid. It's stupid and dumb and selfish and horrible. But jesus, my brain just can't think right and everything feels off. And everything feels suffocating, like the walls have squeezed in really tight. And I just want to cry but I can't because everything's choked."

Your breathing's a little labored, but not bad yet. Dave loosens his grip to give you space, but you latch yourself to him. Arms tighten themselves and you smile. He's so warm. Familiar. The most comforting thing you've ever had. You feel something press against your back and hear a zip. His jacket. It's wrapped around the both of you now. Dave's arms slip out of the sleeves and he twines your fingers together. 

"I'm sorry." It's almost inaudible, how quietly you say the words. He squeezes your hands again.

"Don't be, Egbert. Really. I'd rather you have me get you before shit gets too bad. And fuck man. I wish you'd told me about it sooner."

You press your forehead to his shoulder, eyes drooping slightly. Lips press to your hair. The action makes you blush, but he can't tell. Pink face hidden. You feel a vibration in his chest before the sound registers. Humming. It's a song you know, Brick. The piano keys flash in your brain. You press the notes to the tops of his hands. You learned it together, after you figured out he actually liked music in an unironic way. You wish he would sing, but you've asked too much already. And anyway, his humming is nice. You can feel the smile on his lips with every finger press. It's a little difficult because you don't have the piano space, but you make it work.

As sad of a song as it is, neither of you can get enough of it. It always gets played when he comes over. Brings the mood down, but then you just watch a B-movie to cheer up. You think your favorite was the one about a killer car. 

It fits the mood when you lean over and press a kiss to Dave's neck. His humming stops and you just know you've ruined everything. He pulls back slightly to look at you. The fear must show on your face because he smiles and shakes his head. There's a small kiss placed on your lips and everything stops. It's over too soon and you find yourself leaning in when he pulls away. Red creeps up your face and he smiles at you again. You bury your head in his chest as laughter bubbles out his mouth.

"No need to get embarrassed, man. No one can get enough of the Strider Kisses."

"Oh my GOD, shut up!" He laughs again, rewrapping his arms around your waist. You press your palms to his chest and reposition your head to a more comfortable resting spot. 

There's a huff of breath before he speaks. "You do actually like me, don't you?"

You pull up to look at him. "Dave, of course. I'm not just gonna play games with your emotions, man. That's fucked up." 

He sighs a breath of what sounds like relief. You peck his lips and smile. His grin sends every muscle melting.

"So do you want to go back home?" You viciously shake your head no. Everything at home is cramped, suffocating. Your breaths become ragged just thinking about it. There's a hand rubbing circles into your back, calming your crazy. 

"Yo, it's alright. We don't have to go back. We do have to go somewhere, though. Outdoors with no camping stuff isn't fun." 

You think for a moment before piping up quietly. "Roof?"

It takes him a second to register. "Roof? You want to sleep on my roof?"

You nod. Dave thinks for a second before nodding back. "We're gonna have to drive back to my apartment, even though neither of us is alone." You smack lightly for the lyric play. He laughs before getting serious again. "But really, we'll have to be in the truck. You sure you're alright with that right now?"

"Long as you keep the windows down, I should be okay." He smiles, unzipping his jacket. You didn't realize how cold it was, but then he scoops you up, pulling your body in close as he carries you to the truck. You curl up in his arms, making a discontented sound when he puts you down in the seat. Dave slides into the driver's side, grabbing something from the back and throwing it at you. It's a blanket. You nod a thanks as you wrap it around yourself, buckling up and rolling down the window. The constriction of the blanket and the wind from the window mix well as he drives. They mix so well it lulls you into a half-sleep state. You don't hardly feel it as Dave picks you up and out of the truck, carrying you inside and, thankfully, taking the stairs. 

You curl against him tightly, making quiet sleepy sounds that you'd be embarrassed about any other time. He tells you to close your eyes when you near the apartment, preventing you from noticing how enclosed the situation really is. He says a few things to his Bro that you're too asleep to make out and starts moving, Bro moving behind him, grabbing things from what it sounds like. More stairs, and just when you start feeling the tightness of the space he walks onto the roof. Wind curls through the air as you groggily open your eyes. Bro throws sleeping bags and pillows onto the concrete before disappearing back down the steps. 

Dave sets you down gently and sets up the sleeping bags.

"Do they connect? Cause I mean we could share the warmth and all and, um, sharing a sleeping bag wouldn't be... bad." Your question is so awkwardly phrased it hurts.

"Yeah they connect. Lemme just get these zippers together and we'll be good." 

He does, fitting the bags together and coming back to get you. You stand up and almost fall over from exhaustion. Dave steadies you, smirking a little. You swat at him, disabling your balance more. He just picks you up again and sets you inside the giant sleeping bag. You drag him down quickly, pulling him in with you. He laughs, curling up beside you and pulling you closer with his arms. You give a half smile, too tired for much else. A kiss is pressed to your forehead. You realize before you fall asleep that he's become your brick, but you're not sinking. He just keeps you grounded.

"G'night, John."

"Nighty, Dave."

**Author's Note:**

> soooo hi  
> its been like a month or two  
> so heres some sadstuck fluff  
> youre welcome  
> literally all i ever write  
> there's really no comedy here except the fact it took two weeks to writethis  
> also Brick is by Ben Folds, great song  
> here is a link:  
> http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7NJMTmz7pkg


End file.
